


To Touch

by FelicityGS



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Loki, Asexual Relationship, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicityGS/pseuds/FelicityGS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor brings his brother to meet the team. Anthony is the God of something to do with engineering or mechanics, some such. Loki didn't catch it the first time.</p>
<p>All he knows is Anthony is the most attractive person he's ever seen in his life. </p>
<p>(That one were Tony is Thor's younger brother and Loki is a genius, playboy, billionaire philanthropist)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Touch

**Author's Note:**

> A billion years ago, [rngrn did this picture](http://wrecked-anon.tumblr.com/post/64109419310/rngrn-i-swear-it-was-love-at-first-sight-d). I pretty much immediately got this story you're about to read stuck in my head. 
> 
> It only took nearly a year for me to write it.

Loki has never seen anyone more attractive in his life. 

"And this," Thor says, "is my brother, Anthony."

Loki tries to remember words. He's a genius, words should be easy, but instead his brain is choking on equations, on numbers, on trying to map, to quantify and strip down.

He realizes vaguely that he's dropped his coffee. 

Anthony holds out a hand, lips quirked on just the left side, like he's fully aware of what he's done to Loki's brain. It's just enough of an annoyance that Loki can pull it back together. Him. Pull himself back together. 

Mostly.

"Ah, brother--"

"I don't do touching," Loki says, adjusting his glasses and glancing down to see where the coffee has landed. "Charmed, I'm sure," he adds, trying to salvage  _something_  of this first meeting.

"Is that so?" Anthony asks, an eyebrow lifting. The arch is perfect. Loki can feel his knees going a bit weak.

"Yes," Loki snaps, then leaves.

Flees is more accurate, but Loki prefers the sound of leaves.

***

Anthony likes Loki best when he's at his worst, his least human. It's fascinating, to see someone half as caustic as himself. When Loki's neck-deep in one of his pet projects--a new suit design, one of his precious cars, his orchid collection--he is brilliant and sharp. When they're on the battlefield, his voice goes cold and precise, feeding information back quickly and efficiently.

Anthony is also certain that Loki likes him. There's been half a dozen spilled coffees, three ran into bars, one broken table, and countless bruises. Loki gets a permanent flush across the whole of his face as soon as he stops thinking and starts being human again, words tangling up until he is only risking short single syllables. It's not that Anthony isn't used to being an object of desire--it's that he's used to having to  _work_  for it. 

Also Loki is utterly oblivious to the fact Anthony wants to have a go with him. 

"Good luck with that," Natasha comments when Loki's managed to escape Anthony's come ons  _again_. 

Anthony glances over at her, annoyed that someone has seen that for all Loki's clearly smitten, Anthony still can't get Loki in his bed.

"He's asexual." Natasha smirks. "He's not even thinking of sex when he's looking at you."

***

Loki is working--adjusting one the repulsors. He fiddles, fires a shot, fiddles more; the recoil is off, the amount of power it uses wrong. It's dull work, but he has to look at it, has to focus on it--which is good, what with Anthony having invaded the workshop shortly after he started adjusting. 

"You know, I've been trying to sleep with you for two weeks now."

Loki's brain stops working. He nearly shoots himself in the face. Accidentally. 

He sets everything down, manages to get a strangled question noise out. He looks everywhere except at Anthony, who'd been watching him work. Who had been blessedly silent and out of sight until this moment. Loki glances at him; Anthony is watching him intently, that touch of amusement that makes his features perfect on his lips. 

"Natasha said you're asexual. Is that true?"

Bucket of ice, there he goes. It seems not even the physically perfect god of engineering can keep from  _that_ particular fact; it's a bit disappointing really, even if it means Loki is irritated enough to be able to process again.

Because isn't this what it always comes to: someone wanting to see if it's true Loki's uninterested in sex, prove that they can  _fix_  him. There are many things about Loki that need fixing, but this is not one of them--of that he's certain. If he has a reputation, it's only because it's carefully cultivated to fit with what the rest of the world is still stuck on. 

Besides, it's safer--easier--to pay to get what he actually wants than have a partner try to coerce him into sex. He never has this issue with call girls and boys, who are always pleasantly surprised that all he ever really wants is the skin on skin minus the intercourse, perhaps to have a hand ran through his hair. 

"Yes," Loki says, instead of all of that. He's long since given up trying to explain. "Not even..." he makes a gesture at Anthony, feeling a flare of heat on his face as he does so, "could convince me otherwise."

Anthony only tilts his head a little. 

"Huh." Anthony strokes his goatee for a moment, considering Loki. Loki tries not to look directly at him, instead looking at the parts spread out on the workbench. It's safer really. "Have you ever wondered?" 

"No," Loki says shortly, because he hasn't. "Is that why you keep with those terrible pick up lines?"

"No, those are just funny. I like seeing how red your face gets."

Loki feels his face kick up to burning and grinds his teeth.

"Is this why you don't do touching?" 

"What business is it of yours? You've only been trying to get in my pants, I don't see what possible interest you have left." 

"You're fascinating. I just usually get to know people with sex, that's all."

Loki looks up, mostly so he can stare. Anthony shrugs, entirely unabashed about this.

"So what do you do instead?"

Loki's stomach knots. He makes himself remember to breathe. He can feel his thoughts starting to switch off words and into quantifying the world through numbers again.

"You can't possibly be interested. I won't have sex with you if you're charming enough." He grabs onto the anger that flares as he says that. "I'm serious."

Anthony holds up his hands and he smiles. It's a lovely smile, all sharp and clever and Loki's knees go weak, stomach flipping. He hates it almost as much as he loves it. 

"I'm not going to try to convince you. But I do like you, and want to get to know you beyond the battle field and you muttering while you work. I promise I won't try to get you to have sex with me." Anthony pauses, and as the silence stretches into awkward, Loki vaguely becomes aware over the sound of the blood in his ears that the god is waiting on him.

"Oh. I." Loki closes his mouth, swallows. "Okay. Yes. That sounds nice."

Anthony smiles. Loki wonders if he's just made a mistake.

***

They have a few dates--that's what the rest of the team calls them, at any rate. The tips of Loki's ears go a fantastic shade of red when he overhears Barton asking Anthony how their date went.

Anthony considers trying to get that to happen more often.

Each date has, for the most part, been a miniature disaster. Not in a bad way--if anything, Anthony finds it endearing that even as Loki's managed to get more coherent he's still so utterly uncoordinated. Also hilarious. There's at least two restaurants that Loki swears he's never going back to.

But the intelligence is always there, lurking just beneath the surface, and Loki's sarcasm is never more blistering than when it's directed at himself. Anthony's relieved to know that doesn't vanish, that one of the things that drew him to Loki isn't just a mask.

Tonight's venture isn't actually going out--there's a movie on at Loki's insistence and there's food they haven't really been eating. Loki is antsy, antsy enough that he's actually staying coherent. Anthony's barely watched any of the movie because of it, more interested in Loki actually  _talking_.

Which is why the movie's a poor distraction for how Loki edges closer, the nervous jitter of his hands. 

"Yes?" Anthony asks when Loki stops talking suddenly, just stares at him intently. 

Loki blinks, flushes across his face to the tips of his ears.

"I want--" Loki cuts off, licks his lips. Anthony just raises an eyebrow. "I want to touch you."

It takes a second for Anthony to process why this is worth so much nervousness, so much embarrassment ( _humans_  he thinks fondly), but then he smiles, because touch--physicality--he can do just as easy as sarcasm. Everything about what he is is kinetic and physical and raw beneath the surface. 

(He gets to know people with sex because what he does is map, break down, and  _make better_. He just leaves that last bit off when he fucks. Usually.)

"Sure," Anthony says. "Whatever you like." 

Loki makes a face at that. Anthony laughs. 

"I'll tell you if I don't want to do something," he promises. 

"Right." Loki studies him again, fidgets a little. 

"Here." Anthony reaches over, picks Loki up, and settles him on his own lap. Loki's light, smaller than him; beneath Anthony's hands he can feel the tense of muscle and fine bones of Loki's hips. Loki makes a few incoherent noises, hands grabbing onto Anthony's shoulders for balance. 

Loki just stares at him for a few moments, mouth partially opened. Anthony wonders if kissing is something that Loki does--his lips look kissable, bottom lip drawing his eyes. 

Then Loki punches him in the shoulder. He soothes the hit a moment later, and it's not like it hurts Anthony at all. Anthony laughs and it Loki relaxes, hands smoothing across Anthony's chest. 

"How's that?" Anthony asks.

"Right. Acceptable. I mean acceptable. Not bad. You know what I mean. It's--"

Anthony kisses him before Loki falls into another clarification loop. He keeps it slow, soft; Loki freezes up before leaning into the kiss with a hungry noise. Anthony slides his hands up, cradles the back of Loki's head with one hand, keeping the other at his waist, and lets himself explore, lets himself start to build a schematic of the starbright human in his lap he's wanted to map since he first laid eyes on him.

***

Anthony is so much bigger than him; Loki knew but somehow it had never quite filtered all the way through. He can't say that he minds, not once their shirts come off and he has all that skin to trace with his hands, that he can press himself against. He lets his mind turn off, let's it all turn to an easy stream of numbers and sensation--how large Anthony's hands are, the delightful friction of calloused hands on bare skin, the count of Anthony's pulse, the warmth of Anthony's mouth. Eventually, even the numbers fade out in favour of only the immediate--touch and taste and sound. 

_Grounded_.

He can breathe. He kisses along Anthony's neck, feels Anthony's hand tighten in his hair, then sooth his scalp. Loki sighs, a little more tension drained out, lets himself lean more into him. Anthony's hands trace down his back, slide around and trace along his ribs and down to his waist. Anthony's murmuring, has been, but Loki barely pays any mind except for how the low rumble makes him relax even more. 

At some point, Anthony picks him up again, shifting them around the couch so Loki's on his back. Loki raises an eyebrow, tensing--

"No, no," Anthony says. "I promised. Can't break that."

"Can't or won't?" Loki asks.

"Both. Now, can I get on with this?" 

There's something a little strange to Anthony, the room a little warmer than Loki thinks it should be--there's a taste that reminds him of metal on the back of his tongue, but he can't quite put them all together, doesn't care because Anthony's grabbed for one of his feet and Loki very nearly kicks him in the face.

Accidentally.

"Of course," Loki says, trying to look innocent. 

Then Anthony starts to rub his feet and Loki decides that maybe he won't try to kick him in the face. 

At least not tonight.

***

Anthony moves them to Loki's bed after Loki falls asleep. Loki mumbles when Anthony picks him up, twisting in his arms to press his face into the nook of his throat. 

Loki, it turns out, likes to sleep on his side, curling into a pillow not so different from a cat. Anthony pauses a moment, then shucks his pants and joins him in the bed when Loki's eyes crack open.

"Shh," he murmurs into Loki's skin, kissing a bare shoulder and running a hand along his spine. Loki stills again at the feel of Anthony's weight and warmth, breath quickly evening out and slowing.

Good. 

Anthony just watches him for a while, running a hand through Loki's hair as he does so. 

Clever and brilliant and just as much a creator at his core as Anthony is; it's no wonder Loki nearly falls apart around him, not now that Anthony's had the time and pleasure of sorting him out. There's a resonance there that Loki can feel, that draws his eyes and attention, even if the human doesn't know it or how to put it into words.

There aren't nearly enough souls so bright as this. Anthony doesn't intend to let him go.

Loki murmurs in his sleep, brow furrowing, and Anthony slides his hand along Loki's neck down to his bicep, winds an arm around him and pulls him to his chest. Whatever nightmare thought to visit moves on its way; Loki stills again, face going slack once more and relaxing against Anthony.

Anthony kisses Loki's temple--a benediction-blessing-boon, tweaks a little of what holds Loki together.  _Makes better_.

There should always be exceptions.


End file.
